


Cold and Blu

by Scottie



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Gen, M/M, Other, light shipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 17:57:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1109854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scottie/pseuds/Scottie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Red Medic needs to hear some certain words before he releases Blu Spy from his hold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold and Blu

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't know what I was going to write or if it would be any good, but I knew I wanted to write something about Medic and that blasted Spy head in his fridge. It's very short, but hopefully it isn't too bad.

"It was all entirely fascinating! All of his blood was punched out with a single swing of that giant fist!" Medic laughed, wiping his brow as if he were sweating from the effort. It left a smeared shade of cranberry above his left brow. His lips were drawn and his perfect straight rows of faded ivory was revealed. His red tie was loosened and hung lazily against his broad chest. The red surgical gloves he usually donned were set aside on a cold, metal tray upon a squeaky cart. Medic's lips were pale and chapped because of the vigor in which he spoke with. Spy noticed this only a few days ago. The Medic spoke with everything he had wholeheartedly. Nothing he did was without purpose and somehow Spy had found that there was infinity in that spiraling laugh of his. He found it ringing in his ears late in the night sometimes.

"Doctor," Spy spoke up, licking his chapped lips. "Yes," Medic asked, smiling. Spy had always found that smiling too bright and too eager. "Kill me," he finished through gritted teeth. Medic laughed again, another cascade of rippling sound that assailed Spy's ears. He wish he were deaf to this. He wish he were blind so he wouldn't have to see those maddening gleaming blue eyes that reminded him so much of the aquamarine he had once saw hanging from a woman's neck in Brandenburg one snowy evening. "Please," Spy said, cut off by a callous finger touching his lips. Medic's eyes had lowered to meet Spy's, short lashes against pale cheeks. "Don't," came the rumbling reply. The finger dropped away and large hands were grabbing him, cradling the dark blue fabric of Spy's mask and flesh as he was held high in blinding light. "Not yet."

 :i:

Glistening rubies of red fell through the air and fell splat against the dirty wall. Still fragrant with their hot spice in their hearths of salt and iron. Cranberry was smeared across Medic's cheek again. Small specks had gotten on his glasses and lips and clothes. He had called, given word to his Heavy but at a moment too late when he had notices the fizzing blue cherries at the corner of the door like a waiting gift from a secret admirer. That secret admirer being a blue wearing Demoman. Torn flesh and lakes of ruby were all that was left of the Heavy. He was on the walls and on the floor, in the air like he had inhabited it. Thick and full of sorry musk. Medic fled and died.

Respawn was a series of whispering clicks and hisses. Much like Engineer's Short Circuit that had given new life to him. Enough to make him go charging into battle. Medic found the Respawn room's ceiling ugly today and found his Heavy not waiting for him. They didn't win and Medic had been sent to the Respawn room several more times when his teammates left him to face danger alone. There was no one to blame but oneself. Working harder would surely help the fruit grow on the tree and Medic believed just as their previous Spy had believed in him. But he wasn't here now. He was gone. Cold and blue.

 :i:

Darkness had receded and Spy could see again. At last. Out of one hell and into the next. But Medic didn't speak when he brought the Spy back to his desk. There were no patients today and there were no Blu Spies on the battlefield that day either.

Medic tossed his tie onto the desk, letting it slide to a stop beside Spy's chin. He frowned. "Doctor?" he inquired, cautious. Medic sighed and ran a restless hand through his graying hair. "I apologize, Spy. Today has been a long one. I've only taken you out to give you some fresh air. It's no good being in there too long." He deposited himself into a chair, pulling of his glasses to clean them with a handkerchief. Spy didn't say anything because he had nothing to say. They stayed like that for a while until Medic was chortling softly.

"I suppose I have to modify that gun again don't I?" Medic said aloud to himself, casting tired eyes onto his newest medi-gun. It's muzzle surrounded by windows that glowed when it turned on, cackling and humming to life. Medic sniffed and coughed into his hand.

"I believe in you."

Medic raised his eyes and froze. Spy smiled lightly. His prickly stubble was the only thing Medic was willing to look at. He couldn't meet his eyes. Spy looked at him quizzically. "Medic?" A hand closed over Spy's eyes and he frowned. "What are you doin-" Something was lost. Something was gone and Spy's mind fell to darkness and blank. Medic lifted his hand with a soft smile.

"I know," he murmured and stared at the peaceful face of the dead Spy on his desk. Medic's eyes fell on the medi-gun again and he smiled even more. "I think I'll call it the Kritzkrieg."


End file.
